we ’d been digging for months in one of the remotest areas of Siberia – and finally hit the layer of permafrost (translation from Russian: ‘extra hard and extra cold’). This was bad news for the expedition
getting desperate now, looking for a sign, anything that would make our months of difficult work here in Siberia worthwhile. things weren’t looking promising
a few days later, a ray of hope… (?) Continue Reading
after trying it, she didn’t know what to say: such an unexpected treat and so many flavours it seemed she would never be able to recreate the memory of that sunny afternoon in Siberia…
she asked, most respectfully “please, do you think I could possibly have the recipe? I’ve never even heard of halloumi before.
I promise I won’t share your secret”
“There are no secrets”, I whispered.
“There’s no recipe for this, I told her. You just need some halloumi cheese, a frying pan and a spoon!”
a combination of big juicy dates (Medjool if you want to know) Continue Reading
this is where everything seems to come together – even when you don’t know exactly where you’re going with it.
Was thinking of making some kind of tasty pumpkin pasta recipe one winter evening, had to make a pumpkin cream, almost a pumpkin soup and while the rigatoni was cooking RUSHED into the cold winter air to find a fresh piece of ginger.
The lady at the counter shook her head at the way I was dressed – a t-shirt and a crazy hat – you’re going to get seriously ill if you don’t put a coat on. Still, when I showed her the timer in my hand, with 5 minutes to go for the pasta, she reached into a box by the window and pulled out the pinkest, freshest piece of garlic I had ever seen in Russia… Thanks lady with the fingerless gloves!
and then it just happened here’s that inspired recipe I promised
The first question came as we sat down in the kitchen for something to eat.
I’d just moved into the ‘new’ apartment and was still trying to figure out where everything was. Fortunately, there was almost nothing, I had my own cutlery, my own salt and pepper mills, even my own little frying pan. Simple is best when travelling
The stove was a simple two hob affair, but enough for cooking at home, maybe even some light ‘entertaining’, but probably not too many dinners, though.
“you live alone, right?” she asked. I knew where this was going, I’d heard it many times before. “you’ve probably done this hundreds of times, all around the world, haven’t you? You must have so many recipes for single living, Im sure of it…”
That word “singleton” made it sound like you were sad, lonely and sometimes ate cat food after midnight when your cat wasn’t watching. I tried to play it smart and cool: “yeah, I’m alone, but never lonely…”
and she has more questions
She called round early the next morning, carefully placing the box on the table:
“I made you something for the New Year holidays – I know you’re far from friends and family at this time. I thought this might be a nice surprise”
“what… IS… that?
“ well, it’s not exactly a carrot pie, and it’s not exactly a carrot cake… I suppose you could call it a carrot cake pie “
“a carrot cake… PIE?
“YES!!… Do you like it? continue reading and see how I liked it